


Between the Silences we keep

by lovesyoufromtheground



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Eventual build of plot/mythology, F/M, Romance, but i can't list them out just yet, other dynamics too, since the chapter/part doesn't have them yet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-03-21 14:15:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3695417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovesyoufromtheground/pseuds/lovesyoufromtheground
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A redo from season 4 onward, Elena wakes up in transition that sets her off on a journey making her reflect on her identity, while Damon and her continue to have a tumultuous relationship finding the "final" choice she made /almost/ pointless. Canon AU. No sire bond, no Silas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this fic came to me midway through this half of season 6 when I realized how the show had lost its way beyond a point it could come back. I realized the show would never give me the closure I needed because it didn't understand what it had and the stories it had given up or wasted. I'm not a fic writer. I'm a meta writer but I needed to do this. I didn't have a problem with season 4 per se apart from the fact that the sire bond was unnecessary really. The same angst could have been handled other ways without making agency questionable. The show truly lost its plot however in season 5. But I needed a turning point in the series for Elena and I needed to lay a basis for the mythology by rewriting it so I decided to start with post 3x22 because Elena wakes up as a vampire and it's a story premise that has so much work that can be done with, using the very basis of the three seasons. I was never mad about 3x22. I thought it added a lot of layers into the story that I wish the writers delved into more.
> 
> I also realized in these two years a lot of things that make a story from watching this one fall apart and this is my attempt at exploring those aspects. While this is fanfiction and it is rated as romance, I do intend to focus on things that accentuate the depth of the characters and Damon and Elena's dynamic which means allowing inter-character interaction and individual character moments, even taking the triangle that was conventionally perceived as SE vs. DE as much more than a ship war. This is just the prologue and yes, it is short but I wanted to put it out as a teaser because it is not the first scene in the "present" timeline of s4 that it starts with but it's not far off. You will understand it better when I'm done publishing my first chapter(which I'm working on) or maybe first Act if the chapter gets too long needing to be divided.

_You’re born, you live and then you die._

_You’re either dead or alive._

Elena pressed the words onto the journal with so much force, she dug into the paper. She paused for a moment. There was a time when she believed those words too. Now she didn’t know what she believed. She stared at the words for a good minute, thinking of what to do with them. By the end of the moment, she only knew one thing. She hated them.

Today, she was technically dead but still breathing while her lungs didn’t need air. This time the water choked up her lungs beyond repair and it should have been the end. But Death would never come.

She was about to tear the page from the journal and throw it when she remembered she had ears on her, even with water running down the sink tap. She looked around her medium-sized bathroom and clenched her teeth to suppress a scream. She decided to settle for scratching the words out. It started with a clean stroke but turned into jagged movements blocking out the words. When it tore through an inch of paper in between it, she broke out of the moment.

She looked down at the mess she'd made, blocked out thoughts with more ink and the little ragged tear. With her enhanced vision she could see the tiny folds that formed on the ridges of a careless paper cut. She noticed she had missed out another tiny slit. She wondered if it happened while she was writing or scratching out the words. More frustrated now, she grimaced and stabbed the paper with her pen. And again. And another time. Then, she dragged her pen down through the stabbed piercings, and then up. She increased her pace gradually so she was scratching through the entire page - her cuts now both accidental and intentional - mangling it and those under. After a while, it exhausted her and she dropped her pen, blowing out a tired breath. 

Looking around the four walls and the ceiling of the bathroom again, she fisted her hands wanting to take punch at something. She settled for running her hands through her hair and over her face in desperation, scratching a bit of her cheek, while tears trickled down her face into the small cut. She barely flinched at the saltiness touching her flesh before she saw it heal right away through the mirror.

She traced the area where the cut was a moment ago on her face. It was gone, like it never happened. She spotted a glass on the side of the sink and grabbed it to throw it towards the mirror but caught herself before she could. She couldn’t.

Death kept trapping her with every choice she made. It was looking her in the eye and provoking her, pushing her to revisit those choices again and again, as if to test if she truly owned them. Maybe Death wanted to see if she’d give in again or maybe Death was her constant, forcing her to live.

She bit back a sob, still staring into the mirror. Slipping her fingers under the running water, she trembled from the still new over-sensitivity. After allowing her hands to adjust to it, she splattered water on her face and tried wiping off any sign of tears and puffy eyes. Once done, she flipped her journal closed swiftly, trying hard to not make too much noise. Noise woke up people’s suspicion to others’ thoughts and thoughts were violent things, that hurt and leave you hurt; some burdens were better borne alone.

After turning off the light, she tried sneaking back into her room. She stopped in the middle of the room realizing the irony.

She was a thief in her own home, hiding herself and her silent thoughts in the dark from the man who lay naked under her sheets, asleep - waiting for her to come back to him.

She chose him.

It was supposed to be easier than this.


	2. Between Two Points: Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elena wakes up in transition remembering the night in the hospital after her parents died. Elena POV and Damon POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished this chapter a while back but I got caught up in the detailing. Somewhere down the line, I realized I would probably never put it up if I didn't. This chapter is part of an Act of probably 4 chapters that span one timeline similar to 4x01. But I deviate from it. It's just easier starting with a sense of familiarity.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it

Point one: Past - post accident

_**Beep** _

_**Beep** _

_**Beep** _

White light and specks of blurred circles flooded her eyes as she managed to pry them open. It took her a few moments before her vision cleared and she could see the familiar white coloured window blinds on the pale blue walls and the customary walnut coloured cushioned visitor’s chair nestled in the corner.

_**Beep** _

_**Beep** _

The noise wouldn’t stop, so she looked around, tracking back where the sound was coming from to find the hospital equipment machines with their multi-coloured lights blinking and vital stats showing on the screen, and to their side the IV and blood drips. She raised herself up a bit more and let her eyes follow where the tubes led and saw them connecting into the veins on a wrist that had to be hers. To check if it was really her own, she spread out her fingers. Seeing them move as she wanted and feeling them, she tried once again. It was her hand. Lifting the hospital sheet splayed on her, she found herself wearing a hospital gown. There were no physical wounds.

What was she doing stuck in a hospital bed tied to tubes and wires?

The events before seemed all fuzzy. She wondered what time it was. The light was still filtering through the blinds so she noted it had to be day still. She tried to knack her brain to remember what had happened to lead her here. The grogginess impeded it at first. Then slowly but all of a sudden, it hit her.

She remembered glimpses of water rushing in, the touch of a hand, still water and crashing against a barricade.

Her parents.

Elena felt like she couldn't breathe. But then she reminded herself that she knew nothing. Considering she was alive so she ordained they had to be too.

Her father's job was to save lives and he had saved hers. He had to have saved her mother's too.

Her mother was alive. Her mother would be alive. Her mother had to be alive.

She kept repeating these words in her mind almost as if, if she stopped they wouldn’t hold true anymore.

Looking at the thin tubes connected to her veins, she frantically pulled them off, wincing in pain. But brushing the pain aside, she tried to turn over to the side of the bed and lift herself up. It was harder than she expected. Her body felt weaker than her resolve to get out of there. She pushed herself again - harder this time - while supporting her arms on the bed, and made her bare feet touch the hospital floor. She flinched from the chilliness of the surface. Forcing herself to ignore the sensation, she manoeuvred further to the side and pushed herself again to stand completely on the ground, still supporting her body with her arms on the bed. Traversing for support from whatever she came by - the bed, the drip stand, the chairs - she reached the wall and leaned against it while dragging her limp body towards the door slowly, despite her weakness. Walking past the door into the hallway, she was stopped in her tracks by Audrey, a nurse she’d been familiar with through her dad working as an attending doctor at Mystic Fall’s only hospital.

 “Elena! What do you think you’re doing? You need to get back inside!” Audrey called out in alarm while running towards her.

“I nee -” It was more difficult to say words out loud that she thought.

“We’ll talk when you’re feeling stronger. Now is not the time,” she cut her off before she could get the words out.

She shook her head. Her throat clenched but she forced herself to croak the words out, “I need…to.. see…my…pa…rents”

“You’re not strong enough now, Elena,” Audrey held her and tried to pull her back into the room. Elena shook her off with as much force as she could muster, refusing to budge and shouting out “No! Now, I need…to. No-w”

Audrey continued trying to coddle her into getting back into the room so Elena fought her off by pushing past her. She walked two steps before her legs gave out and she fell down. Audrey came rushing to her side asking her if she was okay.

 “I have…to see them. Let me…see her,” the words came out as a desperate plea, not as a demand this time. “Please,” tears were pooling in her eyes now.

Her plea contorted Audrey’s worried face into a more worried but inexplicable expression – was it close to sadness? - before she tried to mask it with her customary words, “Elena, you just fell down because you couldn’t walk. You need rest”.

Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. She could feel it.

“Where are they? Where’s my dad?”

Audrey didn’t answer but rather her eyes filled further with that guarded expression before, creases formed between her brows.

“Where is he?! He saved me. I know he saved her too,” she shouted this time. “Tell me where they are!”

“Elena…”

“Tell me they’re okay! Tell me she’s okay!”

Audrey’s eyebrows knitted together even more, her eyes now filled with a painful expression.

It was then she knew.

But she didn’t want to believe.

“Is she…” How could she trust anything right now. She corrected herself as her voice broke and she choked out, “Are they alive?”

 

Point Two: Present - post accident

 

Elena gasped for air, waking up at once and finding herself seated on her bed.

She felt disoriented. Her head felt oddly heavy, almost like she had been hit at the back of it. She felt queasy, too. But she couldn’t remember what that might have been from. Then again, it wasn’t uncommon to wake up with a raging headache and scars, these days.

“You’ve been waking up and spacing out the whole night,” Stefan’s voice broke her out of her daze, making her conscious that he was in the room.

All at once, the events of last night seemed to break past her throbbing headache in flashes.

She didn’t want to dwell on this part much. It brought up memories she kept locked away. Instead she tried to focus on what happened before it that led her there.

She and Matt were driving out of town. Klaus had died. Tyler would die because he was sired to Klaus. Her other friends' lives - however - hung in uncertainty. 

Right now, with his green eyes against his olive skin and dirty blond hair, Stefan was here sitting before her. He was alive.

Klaus _was_ lying. Which meant...The rest of them were alive too.

The rest of them...

Her mind travelled back to the one she’d left on the other side. 

She knew he wouldn’t die. She just...knew. She kept telling herself they would meet again. They had to. He had made a promise to her once. Even if she broke her end, he’d keep his. That’s just who he was.

A sigh of relief broke out of her as a small smile planted itself on the corner of her lips. “You’re alive” she breathed out the words, only slightly louder than a whisper, not looking at the man in front of her or anyone really. These were words meant for someone they shouldn’t be meant for. At this brief realization her smile fell.

Trying to cover up the tracks of her momentary betrayal, she looked up at Stefan and burst out beaming, “I knew he was lying. Caroline, Bonnie’s mom, Da-,” she caught herself before she could say the entire name, halted for a few seconds at her consciousness and then pushed past it acting like that mishap never happened, “You’re _all -_ you didn’t-,” her eyes were turning glassy from her disbelief of her almost irrational belief coming true. But Stefan wasn’t returning her enthusiasm.

“Well, aint that nice. Too bad there’s a party dampener,” a husky voice interrupted her.

This voice, she wished she would never hear again. This voice, she wished she would definitely hear again.

She turned around to face him. Raven haired, pale skinned bearing blue eyes - colder than usual - and a firm jaw, there was Damon sitting on the edge of the window settee to the side of her bed.

Elena had always thought of blue to be a calming colour. Maybe it was because the sky and the ocean were painted as serene in the books she read and her mother made her visualize them as such, when she practised writing. But mostly it was because she and Matt had grown up from the same sandbox and she had known the blue in his eyes before she had known the brown in hers. Matt had gentle looking eyes. Even when she and Matt fought, his eyes felt gentle. Which was why she was always afraid that one day, she’d break his heart and lose what he held in those eyes. Blue would never be a calming colour again.  Before she could get to it, her parents died and she didn’t know what it stood for anymore. After that, she met Damon. Right off the bat, his blue eyes made her uncomfortable. She couldn't tell why. It was only gradually she started noticing the flickers of sadness behind them and even more gradually the concern hidden in his gaze. But even with those flickers when Damon got mad, his eyes got harsher, somehow - filled with storms looming in them. They weren’t calm. They hardly ever were. Sometimes she thought the moments where she saw tenderness reflect in them made her more uncomfortable than when he got mad.

Right now was not one of those moments. Right now, his eyes were filled with a thousand raging storms. And she was the one who evoked them.

She'd told herself she'd see him again. But she hadn't let herself think about what they'd be like when they did. He'd push her away. Maybe forever. He certainly was trying that now, at least.

“I see I interrupted a heartfelt moment. Do you want me to leave?” he mocked, gesturing between Stefan and her, reminding her again of Stefan’s presence, who was oblivious to last night

She didn’t know what to tell Damon without seeming hurtful. She thought of what she’d told Matt after they broke up. Except Damon wasn’t Matt - in any way, at all. Damon wasn’t even her ex. He was never her boyfriend. But he was...she didn't know what he was to her. 

No matter what she said now, it would end up being hurtful any way, and she didn't want him to have to hear it in front of Stefan.

“What do you mean by ‘dampener’?” she tried to maintain her composure. That’s the best she could muster. Speaking business. Was that what they were going to be like now?

It occurred to her that what he was talking about might be about Matt...or Tyler because if Klaus died, it meant...

“Is Matt okay? Is this about Tyler? Caro-”

“Of course in all of this, you wouldn’t stop once to think about yourself,” Damon bit back a laugh and shook his head, before breathing out, “It’s always about every _fucking_ one else!”

“What are you talking about?!” She was confused and anxious. At this point, she hoped it was just his anger against her.

Damon let out an exasperated sigh and rested his face in his palm. Stefan tried to call out her name to explain but Damon raised his head and cut him off immediately, “What is the last thing you remember, Elena?”

“Why?” She didn’t like the tone of how it made things seem.

“Just answer the question,” Damon pressed.

Normally, she would have picked a fight with him over the fact that she doesn’t take orders from him, even with whatever went down between them. But the urgency with which he was pressing and Stefan avoiding looking her way when she glanced towards him to clarify her confusion, it made her seriously consider what Damon was asking and she conceded.

Trying to skim past her memories and feelings of them, she replied, “Matt and I were stuck in water under the bridge. Stefan came to get us.”  

“And what happened after that?” His voice wasn’t as harsh as before but it wasn’t gentle either. He was being very impersonal. She didn’t like the sound of where this was going at all. She noticed that the room was in shadows, even in the day. The curtains were drawn. She had to stop herself from assuming the worst.

“I asked Stefan to save Matt first, which he did,” she said looking Stefan’s way, who had his face down to which Damon snorted. Ignoring his behaviour, she continued, “And I’m here, so he-”

“Saved you?,” he cut her off. Then acerbically hurled the words towards her, “He didn’t!”

“What- No, I’m here so -,” confusion played out on her face, the furrows between her brows got deeper. She looked over in Stefan’s direction, who wasn’t intervening or even looking at her. Her voice cracked at its edges as she corrected herself, “Then who did?”

“No one,” If Elena thought Damon had thrown the last words at her, she didn’t prepare herself for the tone he delivered these two simple words with such a blow.

She felt the walls closing in upon her.

It couldn’t be. She hadn’t ingested anyone’s blood.

There had to be something else. There was always another way.

“How- what does that mean?” she cried out, starting to panic.

Even Damon who was so hell bent on pouring his whole bottle of harsh truths on her, didn’t utter a word. Instead, he got up to stand by her cabinet mirror facing away from her and Stefan.

So she turned to Stefan for answers. He took a few moments to compose his words and when he didn’t get to it, she prodded him, “Stefan!”

It wasn’t a question. It was a demand.

“Yesterday when you were at the hospital, you didn’t just have a concussion. You had a cerebral haemorrhage. Meredith had taken some of Damon’s blood earlier and to heal you- “

No. This couldn’t be happening.

“She gave you his blood”

No. No. No.

“Am I dead?” There were tremors, in her voice, a break down threatening around the corner.

Stefan didn’t answer. Instead he looked down with tightly sealed lips, answering her completely with his deafening silence.

“Oh my god,” she said muffling her own words.

She didn't believe.

“I’m...dead,” she hollowly blew out, and pushed the next words out, tasting the sound of it on her tongue, “I’m a vamp...ire?”

Finally, she broke. Her entire body shook from within, as she bawled in hysteria.

“I’m not supposed to be-I was ready to die! I was supposed to die! I never wanted to be-”

In that very moment, painful memories that she had kept locked inside, ripped open from her insides and unleashed themselves. The water under the bridge sucked the air out of her lungs, while smothering her. Tentacle-like hands of water wrapping their arms around her neck and strangling her, robbing her of everything she loved and held dear, only to spit her back out each time. Somehow death would not accept her defeat to it, each time. What did it want from her? Where was the end?

Stefan came rushing to her side, and tried to assure her, “There’s a way to undo this”.

Who was he trying to convince more? Her? Or himself?

But she grabbed at the thought of hope. Her humanity was all she had left connecting her to the person she was and her parents. She _needed_ this. 

Standing where he was, Damon said, “There’s no other way. You feed and turn or you die. There’s no door number 3”.

She kept her eyes fixed on Stefan desperately, “How?”

Damon irately remarked, “I can’t believe you idiots haven’t learnt anything!”

She didn’t need logic now.

Stefan ignored him, “You’ve not yet turned. The transition...isn’t complete because you haven’t fed on blood yet. You’re stuck in a limbo, and Bonnie can get you out on the other end.”

None of what he said made sense. Didn’t he get it? There is a price one pays for cheating death. She’d paid it so many times. Even magic came with a price. The last time it took John dying to preserve her soul and make her come out on the other side, physically unscathed. Even Meredith didn’t trust her very science she practiced, and resorted to the cheat of magic on her. No one could cheat death.  

“I will fix this,” he said with resolve in his voice and eyes filled with need for something.

She  _almost_ believed him when he said he would fix it. She kept holding his gaze through her tear filled eyes, so that she would - eventually. Because she had to. For her parents. For him. For Jeremy.

The sound of footsteps walking down the stairs pulled her out of the moment. She glanced sideways to find Damon was no longer by her cabinet mirror, and the door shut from before, was left open.  

 

***

Damon stepped onto the landing of the stairs and beelined to the kitchen. He needed a drink. If he had to stomach another minute of their “epic love”, Elena still putting Stefan on a pedestal after all this - actually, Elena putting _anyone_ on a pedestal while she thought she deserved to die, he’d end up killing someone.

Opening the cabinet, he yanked out a bottle of bourbon. The images of Elena looking at Stefan and believing him while he was making all these promises of false hope kept flashing in his mind. He needed it to stop. _God,_ he needed it to stop. He wondered how he ever thought he had a chance. She said it herself. It’s always going to be Stefan - even if he was dumb enough to enable her suicidal tendencies. He shook his head and put both his hands on counter, sighing out loud.

Why did he even let himself think otherwise? He’d been down this road before with her so many times, and Katherine too before. Hell, why did he _always_ let himself think otherwise?

Taking a glass out of the side cabinet, he poured himself a drink and downed it. He needed something to cut off the edge from all this bullshit. He closed his eyes and let out a breath.

She just had that air around her. She talked to you, tried to understand you, looked at you with her doe eyes and made you fall in love with her without trying, even when she couldn’t return it, even when you didn’t want to. They were always an almost, but not quite, not enough.

He was pathetic.

And a fool.

But not as foolish as her wanting to throw her life away for every pedestrian who walked by her. Why couldn’t she just want to save herself? Sometimes he felt that some of her choices pained him more than her not loving him. She didn’t love herself either because she was convinced everyone on this world deserved to live even at her sacrifice. He didn’t know what annoyed him more about her: her indecision when it came to him or her firm decision to sacrifice herself. Technically, there was no indecision but that didn’t even matter anymore. For the love of anything, he couldn’t understand how could she not care about herself.

She wanted a human life. But even that she didn’t fight all that much for. She threw it away like it hardly held any worth before someone else’s.

He was an idiot for loving her. She was an idiot for not loving herself.

Damon heard the clomping of footsteps coming down the stairs and towards the kitchen in a definite and consistent pace, almost in a hurry but not enough for immediate urgency. A few seconds in, Damon heard a petulant hushed voice muttering under his breath how he shouldn’t have to ask permission or take orders.

Just when he was about to enter the room Damon called out, “I give you orders so you don’t get killed, Little Gilbert”

Jeremy stepped in, looking surprised but in a second his expression morphed to annoyed, “Says the guy who _did_ kill me”

Not again. He groaned.

“You know that comeback is getting _real_ old,” Damon quipped back.

Could there go one day when he wasn’t reminded of it? Just one day. They might as well get T shirts reading “Damon killed Elena’s brother that one time”. He got it. He was the worst. Move on.

Jeremy shrugged, “Doesn’t make it any less true”

He needed more alcohol for this conversation so early in the morning.

“ _And_ it still doesn’t make you any less likely to be killed. Hence, the orders.” Damon turned around to pour himself more bourbon.

Jeremy continued speaking and Damon gritted his jaw. “So when by _your_ permission can I see her? I have a ring that protects me, you know,” he asked with a tone of sarcasm too much for Damon’s liking.

He carefully swivelled his glass around, before taking a sip and turning back to face Jeremy, “She’s not stable during the transition, and I think killing her brother would be something she’d want off her list. Plus that ring turned Alaric evil and I’m pretty sure, she doesn’t want to drive you to that end, too”. He was opening the second cabinet above to his right when something dawned on him that he hadn’t thought of before.

When Alaric desiccated in front of him while they were fighting last night, he did the math and knew immediately that it meant Elena had to have died for that to happen. But in his attempts to deal (or rather, not deal) with the reality of losing these two people in his life, it didn't quite settle in completely until now that she was waking up as an orphan once again. Even if they had given Ric a funeral and said their goodbyes, he hadn’t physically died on them. Elena would take this hard, and if he knew her – she’d blame herself for it, despite believing she was right saving Matt.

“And when will she be stable? After completing it? Vicki-”

Jeremy’s voice made him aware of his surroundings again. He took out a cereal box he was searching for, and turning around, he cut him off, “Elena is not Vicki Donovan, Jeremy. Vicki was a drug addict. Thankfully, your sister never took to the stash when she hit her low.” Hoping to have driven the jab in, he went on to rummage through the fridge. “And now, since you lost your guardian and you don’t understand this situation,” he took hold of the milk carton inside and placed it on the kitchen island, after which he threw the cereal box towards Jeremy to catch, and continued, “You take orders from me.” Damon followed that by pushing the milk carton towards him, “Eat your cereal.”

Jeremy’s face contorted from annoyed to a flicker of sadness and then landed on timid and twitching. It was obvious to Damon the idiot was hiding something.

“Something’s up with you. Spill”

“Nothing is up with me,” Jeremy answered a bit too quickly.

Damon narrowed his eyes at him in warning. What had he said to him? He had mentioned Alaric. Maybe this was about that.

“Look if this is about Alaric and you wanting a shoulder to cry on or something, I don’t do-”

“Thanks a lot for the concern, dick,” Jeremy said, dumping the cereal box on the island and stomping off.

“Wait,” Damon called out, authoritatively but with concern. The kid had lost his fifth (it was fifth, right?) parental figure. Even he wasn’t so much of a douche and whether Damon liked to admit it or not, he actually cared about this dumb Little Gilbert too, despite their history. Adding onto that, the person he’d lost was Alaric. If Alaric was watching this, he would punch him right now for behaving like this towards Jeremy.

Jeremy stopped in his tracks to turn around, “What now? More orders?”

“Ugh, you’re such an overdramatic teenager,” Damon remarked, to which Jeremy rolled his eyes. Then he paused, turning serious, “I’m sorry about Ric. He was a good man. He was family to you. And even if he turned evil, you don’t just stop caring for someone once they do.”

Jeremy was a bit taken aback by what he’d just said. Damon didn’t say anything for a moment, which Damon let him have without throwing in an inconsiderate comment to ruin what he’d just said because it’d be easier given he was pissed off at everyone and didn’t want to play nice. But he’d let Jeremy have it, for Alaric.

“Were you there with him when he was dying?” Jeremy broke out of his moment of silence.

Damon looked at Jeremy, confused. He didn’t understand how Jeremy would know that. As if seeing Damon’s confusion Jeremy continued, “Because you were out of town where Klaus’ body was Alaric came after him and... you”

Damon considered lying and took a few seconds longer to get the words out. Until he decided against it.

“I was.” He felt compelled to say his next words but he wasn’t looking at Jeremy anymore. Maybe it was more for Ric. Either way, he knew Jeremy needed some form of a heart-to-heart, as much as he’d like to avoid it. His sister couldn’t be there for him now. So Jeremy would have to do with his half-assed version.  

“He died - weirdly enough - while we were fighting. Quite poetic, actually. We became friends after I killed him the first time and we always fought. And then while fighting with me, he died on me for real, and ended our friendship.” He hated Ric right now. “Bastard” he said referring to his dead best friend.

In response to his insult, Jeremy chuckled. Damon shrugged.

Jeremy’s face softened, “I think he misses you too...wherever he is.”

Damon looked back at him, not knowing how to react. Jeremy meant it. The kid was so naive and didn’t know Ric’s evil version would hate him wherever he was. But he couldn’t tell that to Jeremy. That would mean telling him his dead guardian hated him too and Damon generally didn’t know how to react to people being nice to him. Elena was another story. But even that, he didn’t always know how to react. That wouldn’t be a problem anymore, though.

As if somehow on cue, Damon heard yet another person strolling down towards the kitchen. Mornings were so annoying, with all the start of routine and repetition. But Stefan was his savior from this awkward conversation. Stefan, the savior. He had to laugh inwardly at the thought given the recent turn of events.

“Hello, Stef. Come on and join us for breakfast,” Damon greeted his brother in a saccharine tone, while holding up his glass toasting him.

Stefan walked in looking addled. Damon was pissed as hell at more than one thing because of him. So he knew if he acted unperturbed he would be able to get under Stefan’s skin more. Then again it might just be Stefan’s hair making him look confused all the time, and something Damon typically couldn’t hold back mocking. But he’d hold that off for a moment. There were more pressing matters.

“How is she?” Damon inquired, while indicating upward. He’d left midway through everything that went down in the room and then blocked out his extra-sensitive hearing to it because he didn’t want to have to be so masochistic. He wasn’t needed there and it was a fact. But it didn’t mean he didn’t want to know how she was doing.

“She’s asleep. She said she needed rest. I stayed a while to check on her.” Stefan tucked his hands in his pockets. Stefan’s eyes betrayed the calm he was attempting. His brows were knitted enough to have made an almost permanent cross stitch on his forehead, which anyway had quite a lot going on there. Damon could see that Stefan was talking himself into staying in control every millisecond. He ended up saying or doing nothing but nodding in agreement with Stefan.

Stefan then went on to add, “I’m going to talk to Bonnie and ask her if she can do a reversing spell.”

The muscles on Damon’s neck tightened up. He remembered the _level_ of annoyance he felt against his brother for coming up with this ridiculous idea that had no basis and had never been done before. Because it couldn’t be. Wouldn’t people be opting to turn human already by now if it was even a viable option? And the worst part was what if it risked Elena’s life - again? Witches did everything with consequences, even if it meant reversing one of their most hated creations into the normal to balance nature or whatever the hell. His brother had already screwed up by “respecting Elena’s wishes” and saved the useless busboy when he should have saved her first, and now he would risk her life again for a chance that even no witch he knew had spoken of, to absolve his guilt and undo his wrongs.

Jeremy butt in asking, “Wait, reverse what? You’re going to reverse her vampirism?”

All need to keep up the pretense was lost in that moment. Ignoring Jeremy, Damon threw his words at Stefan in a scathing tone, “You just _had_ to give her false hope, didn’t you?”

“Look, you weren’t there when she looked me in the eye and told me she never wanted to be a vampire” Stefan said in his defense.

He hadn’t forgotten the time when he force-fed her his blood when she’d offered herself up for Klaus’ goddamned ritual. Resentment in her eyes after what he’d done. Hell, he’d seen that resentment so many times in her eyes. Did any of them _really_ want to turn when they did? No, they didn’t, damn it! They still dealt with it.

“Then you should have thought of that when you let her _die_ ,” Damon spat out.

“I didn’t mean for her to!” Stefan retorted, defeated.

“What were you thinking, huh? You’d save the quarterback while you let her stay underwater struggling for air, and she would be fine when you got back down again? You knew she went through this before! You knew she lost her parents to it! Hell, you were there!”

 _He_ should have been there in Stefan’s place, even if she never wanted him - even if she would hate him forever for going against her and saving her first. He promised her something. He should have never left. Screw the coin toss! He shouldn’t have left it to some dumb luck. Since when did luck work in his favor?

“I had to respect her choice!”

Stefan’s “arguments” in his defense were so unbelievably weak that Damon wondered how it even made sense to Stefan in his own head.

The dreaded C word. The bane of their existence.

Their lives felt like an eternal proverbial coin toss. Somehow each moment only created a domino effect or just added to a domino effect of other choices. People make life changing decisions once in a while. That’s why they’re so huge. But their lives? They made those life changing decisions everyday and somehow it felt like it didn’t change anything at all, but still changed things.

It had been this way since Katherine stepped into their lives 145 years ago. It remained that way even after she disappeared from it. Even after her importance diminished for them when he gradually realized how he had wasted all that time over someone who never cared all that much, it stayed that way. Knowing Elena emphasized the difference, even if that realization wasn’t because of her completely. But it didn’t solve anything. They got stuck in another web of another series of complicated relationships, and complicated choices defining who they were and who they weren’t, and they _still_ seemed indefinite even while feeling so definite.  

 _Respecting choices_ sounded very virtuous and all. But behind those words were a bunch of choices made before they had entered Elena’s life. It wasn’t about what was the right thing to do. In this case, none of them three did the right thing. It was a glorified word, really, for every messed up decision they made. Elena in all her wanting to declare her free will through sacrificing herself for every _freaking_ person, wasn’t doing it as some grand gesture of finding her identity. She was doing it because of her guilt of surviving. Stefan supported it out of some misconceived notion of righteousness. Damon knew he didn’t make moral decisions in these cases, either. Collateral damage meant nothing to him and one could fault him for that. But respecting  _these_  choices? Damon inwardly scoffed. 

He exclaimed, “To die?!”

Stefan fell silent but Damon continued to rip away at him, “You know what? She wants to save everyone in the world and sure, she’s stupid for not prioritizing herself. But you’re a coward covered underneath all that honorable bullshit. You know what will happen and you let her do it anyway. Because you’re afraid of her hating you if you defy her, even if it means losing her altogether.”

Stefan didn’t say anything for a few moments. Then he uttered, “That’s why I need to do this and fix it.”

Like he just said. He knew his brother.

The only way Stefan knew how to make up for his mistakes was to try and reverse them, undo them, erase them. So that he could do away with the stains on his knight in shining armour that kept him up at night.

“Well, just because you feel guilty doesn’t mean you get to feed her hope of something that will never happen.”

“She needs hope, Damon.” Stefan hurled back.

Damon snapped back in return, “People need hope to make things better. False hope crushes you after it’s all done, even more than before.”

When the hell was life fair? Life sucked and they all knew it. They pretty much walked into each other’s already shitty lives only to realize it could get shittier and now Stefan was only making it harder.

Damon had forgotten Jeremy was even present there, until he interrupted their argument, “What if it does work?”

Damon barked back at him, “It won’t!”

Great. He cursed his luck that another Gilbert was on board with Team Delusional’s plan. He needed to get out of here. Clearly, no one was listening to him and he had no place here. Why was he even here? By what right? He was supposed to leave according to the deal he made with Stefan anyway. But he couldn’t. Not now.

He decided to leave the house at least, briskly walking past them and towards the door. At first, no one said anything or tried to stop him. Not that it would stop him.

But, then, Jeremy called out from the living room, “Where are you going?”

Since when did this punk care or keep tabs on where he went?

“Out,” he said, opening the door and not looking back as he walked across the threshold and went outside. From upstairs he could hear someone shuffling. _She_ was awake.

Damon marched up to his Camaro, eager to get out of there. He needed a channelled distraction.

He decided that had a score to settle with Barbie Klaus.

***

Elena pushed off her bed, dragging her sock covered feet towards the mirror, trying to avoid making too much noise.

She wasn’t actually resting as she told Stefan. She needed to be on her own anyway and the creaking of the fan was giving her a headache. She heard faint sounds of chatter downstairs while Stefan still sat by her side. It tore her away from the jarring sound of the fan creaking above her and even Stefan’s breathing. Damon and Jeremy were downstairs bickering, as usual. She wondered what Jeremy would think of her now. Would he see her differently? Damon was right keeping Jeremy away from her now. What if she hurt him? What if he’d look at her with disgust? What if she killed him? No, it was better this way.

She froze upon their mention of Alaric.

Under all the stress about everyone surviving, she hadn’t given Alaric dying a thought. Esther had robbed him from them by taking away who he was and replacing him with an alter ego. She didn’t think about that after he attacked and tortured Caroline because she realized there was no hope of return for him. He was gone. But it didn’t stop amount of pain that seared through her now that he was gone physically too. It was now she realized, that wasn’t a point beyond return. _This_ was.

Somewhere between it all, Stefan had left. She barely even noticed. Vampires could be really sneaky.

She thought back on when Ric told her he didn’t think he could be a guardian to her on her birthday. She should have listened to him. Somehow every parental figure was cursed to die on her. She should have given him that chance to escape. But she _foolishly_ asked him to stay because she and Jeremy needed him like he needed a family. Now, he was gone and Jeremy had lost his guardian and Damon had lost his best friend too. She should have given them that chance too by not asking him to stay.

She heard Damon storming out of the house now. Jeremy even asked him where he was going and he didn’t come up with a sarcastic comeback he mostly had up his sleeve. She wondered if she said something _just_ loud enough would he stop. Then she shook the idea out of her head. It was stupid. She couldn’t.  

Elena stood in front of the mirror checking her gums that were aching. There weren’t any fangs protruding - even when she touched the area. She didn’t look like a vampire yet, she still looked far from human. In fact the more she kept staring at her reflection with her dishevelled, curly hair and blank eyes, she could have sworn she saw Katherine staring back at her. She ran her fingers through strands of her hair.

There were only three things that set them apart. Katherine was a vampire. Katherine had the two Salvatores at her beck and call. Katherine had curly hair.

She picked up her hairbrush from her dresser, and desperately brushed through her hair to straighten it out more.

“Hey” her brother’s voice broke her out of her chore. Still nervously walking past the door, he repeated “You doing-”

“No” she replied back quickly, dropping the brush. Then added “I’m okay. I’m not feeling the hunger pangs yet”. She laughed nervously after saying it.

 _Actually_ , she could hear everything more clearly than she wanted and it was all like blurred noise; the minimal light filtering into the room was irritating her eyes, and her gums were aching as was her stomach. But she could handle it and as long as she could handle it, she would because she would not become a monster in front of Jeremy. She couldn’t face the look of being let down even in her little brother’s eyes because she was never meant to be this way.

“Don’t do that. Don't act like you’re okay when you’re not.” 

“I have it under control, Jer!” Elena snapped back.

Jeremy didn’t buy into it though. “Do you? Vicki said that too when she turned and then she -”

Vicki, Jeremy’s ex-girlfriend and Matt’s sister, was a drug addict before she turned. Back then, Stefan had warned her back then that if they didn’t handle Vicki well, she would end up a lot like what he went through. Sadly, Vicki maybe by nature was more like Stefan than she realized, but she didn’t survive for more than a few days as a newbie vampire.

Elena wasn’t Vicki though. She’d never done drugs and she was clearly not an addict. But then again, neither was Stefan. Or was he? Stefan and her didn’t talk about his human life much beyond what he had told her when they were together.

“I’m not Vicki, Jeremy! I’m fine. I’m handling it.”  

“That’s what you always say even when you’re not. Look I don’t want to lose you the way I lost her. She turned into someone else the minute she turned into a vampire, maybe I don’t remember it but she attacked me and would have killed me - even if that wasn’t her. Like Stefan.”

“Jer” She pleaded. She didn’t want to hear how much wasn’t in control and how she would lose herself and turn into someone else.

“Like Damon too”

She looked at him, surprised. Sometimes Elena wondered how she could even talk to Damon after what he'd done. Sometimes she wondered how she even felt something more after that. Sometimes she wondered how she could be worried about him after that. It didn’t even make sense. But she did.

“Damon’s an ass and he would kill anyone who got in his way and if he didn’t care about -”

She'd be lying if she said she wasn't scared Damon would now do something he’d regret later. What was she supposed to say though? With what right would she ask him anything?

But no matter what, she wasn't him.

She snapped back into reality, asserting,"I'm not Vicki or Stefan or Damon or Katherine, okay? I'm _me_."

Jeremy said, “That’s the thing. It doesn’t matter who you are. You _will_ change and I can’t handle that. I can take it any other way but not _this_ way. I know it’s selfish but-”

She looked at her brother. Sixteen year old and deep brown eyes filled with concern for her, but filled concern and fear. And she, somehow, felt the same fear.

“I’m doing it”

Jeremy looked at her questioningly.

She said, “The reversing spell? If Bonnie can do it, I’m ready to do it.”

He let out a sigh of relief, smiling a bit.

Elena said sympathetically, “I’m sorry about Ric”

Jeremy looked back at her sadly, “We’d already lost him, Elena.”

That reminded her of Caroline. In all this chaos she should have thought about her earlier. 

“How’s Caroline doing? She must be devastated. Is someone there for her?” She rushed through her words.  

“Matt is with Caroline. After they revived him and he stabilized, he went there right away to see her”

She asked,“There’s nothing wrong with him, right? Is he doing okay?”

She hadn't seen Matt since last night. He would be guilt ridden and he just wanted to take away all of his worry. But there was so much going on, she didn’t know what to think or who to think about. It was like everything was falling apart at the same time. 

“He’s fine, Elena” Jeremy tried to assure her. “Just focus on yourself”

She looked down to clench her her hands, “I just want everyone to be okay." She peered up, with her hands still clenched, “Tell Matt and Caroline I’m sorry for what happened.”

“Everyone is going through a lot right now. So are you. It’s okay” Jeremy tried to assure her, putting his arms around her and pulled her in for a hug. She needed that comfort in that moment so she held on to her only remaining family.

But the longer she held on, she started hearing blood coursing through her brother’s carotid artery. The lulling of his pulse becoming the only thing she could hear.  Her throat and mouth were getting dry.The pit in her stomach felt like an abyss pulling her under for not quenching it. The pit in her stomach telling her to do whatever it took to get under that vein and tap its blood and the hunger was only getting stronger.

He was her brother. He was little _Jer_. She was supposed to be the one to protect him, not want be the one to hurt him.

Scared, she pulled back quickly, trying not to seem too out control and croaked out, “I think I need to rest. I’m not feeling well.”

Jeremy wasn’t dumb to not realize the vampire senses were catching up. But he decided not to push her “Sure. Bonnie will finish the spell and you’ll be fine. Okay?”

She nodded, and he turned around to leave the room. Immediately after, Elena rushed to the door and shut it closed. She pressed her back to it and closed her eyes.

She held back a sob and then walked to the bathroom to stand in front of the mirror. The brush hadn’t worked. Her hair was still wavy. She turned on the tap so even Stefan couldn’t hear her over the running water, just in case. She then took out her straightening iron and worked so furiously to correct the likeness, that she burnt her hair. But she didn’t care. She just kept straightening her hair until Katherine stopped staring back at her.

* * *

 

 


	3. Between Two Points: Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elena, Damon, Bonnie and Rebekah deal with the fallout of their choices from the previous night(3x22). Multi POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So finally somehow I got this written mostly while on a trip. Thanks to all the people who are following this fic and if you've commented then for your reviews that have been quite a motivator. It was hard to continue this chapter beyond its initial stages, especially after the finale. But I guess my need to rewrite things just got stronger. Like I've said before I didn't mind season 4 but I found some devices very unnecessary and in hindsight its the fixation with those things that just overshadowed everything and it got lost. If things work out, I can get to rewriting season 5 - eventually when I've done my share for things before. My first act in this fic is a one day timeline spans 4 chapters because I'm laying basis and following the show sequence but manipulating it and from which I will deviate a lot more once I cross that point set, as I mentioned previously. Hence the "Part 2". This chapter expands the POVs a bit as you'll find beyond Damon and Elena. I just found it as a useful and interesting way to 1)enhance the "show, not tell" 2)add a dynamic quality to the main two characters in my fic where the other points of views aren't cheerleaders of them and in disagree with them in different shades and also multiple points of views add more. I hope it flows and doesn't seem clipped together because there are 4 povs in one chapter. You might be put off by the idea of certain other povs but I suggest you keep reading because I've tried to maintain Elena as the protagonist and Damon & Elena as the mains even with an ensemble approach.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it!  
> \-----------

Stefan put a slice of bread onto the rest of the Bologna sandwich and handed it to Elena on the kitchen island. She hadn’t eaten all day and her stomach was twisting in knots. Snatching the sandwich, she bit into it eagerly only to spit it out, “Eugh!”

It tasted like dirt.

“That’s probably your body rejecting human food and pushing you to feed”, Stefan said pursing his lips.

Nausea made her stomach twist tighter. She forced herself to swallow and when the feeling didn’t subside she said, “It tastes disgusting.”

“Yeah,” he said.

To Elena’s knowledge, vampires could eat food. She’d seen Stefan, Damon and Caroline eat food. They even cooked, so if it tasted this bad it didn’t make sense why they’d ever want to. She tried to think back on her memory of Stefan eating. Stefan always nibbled. Damon, on the other hand, ate quite a lot without flinching and quite enjoying it - even his stupid obsession with pickles.

“Does it always taste this awful? Because I remember Dam--” She caught herself for a moment being self conscious. Stefan, from what she saw, knew what she was about to say but he wasn’t trying to make a deal of it, even as he looked down. She hesitated but finished sheepishly, “Damon seems to eat a lot of food.”

Things had to go back to the way they were.

“Well,” Stefan said, “It’s not always as awful. But without blood human food tastes like…”

“Garbage?” she said.

“Yeah,” Stefan smiled. “And anyway once you taste blood in transition and beyond, food just doesn’t compare to the taste of human blood.”

Jeremy walked in, and seeing them, he stopped in his tracks. “I just-- I just wanted to drink some coffee,” Jeremy said, nervously.

“Sure, go ahead.” Once Stefan waved his hand, Jeremy rushed towards the coffee maker. Elena held her breath.

Stefan tried to distract her by talking her through what Bonnie would do once she arrived but Elena couldn’t help but observe her little brother’s fearful timidity from the corner of her eye.  His back that was facing her was tense. Then he was tapping on the counter, waiting for the coffee which he never did. He was fidgeting and folding and unfolding his arms about 3 times every 10 seconds. He opened drawers, searching for spoons that he didn’t need when the spoons were placed right on the counter -- which Jeremy knew and first of all, Jeremy never stirred his coffee. He dropped one spoon down and cursed to himself under his breath. He, then bent down to pick it up and quickly deposited it in the sink and moved back to the coffee maker with the same pace and then carefully took out another spoon from the drawer.

Every morning for the past two and a half years she had been drinking coffee. Jeremy had been for the last year and a half since their parents died. They could skip breakfast but they never  skipped coffee. It helped them both make up for their lack of cooking skills and it kept them awake for school. Eventually it became a habit, the unspoken Gilbert breakfast necessity. It became their normal.

She wondered what was normal now Her own brother was afraid of her.

Once the machine finished brewing, Jeremy poured some in a mug. He didn’t even use the spoon that he had carefully taken out from the drawer. Turning around, he pushed an awkward smile on his face and was about to walk out when Elena stopped him.

“Hey!” When she called out, Jeremy turned around. “Could you...pour me some too?”  

She just wanted to know that she and Jeremy could hold onto their dysfunctional functionality before yesterday happened, no matter what.

Jeremy looked surprised but with a little stuttering he obliged, pouring her some and taking it to her. Hesitantly, he stretched his arm out so she could take it. His hands were shaking. Seeing his movements, Elena hesitated to take the mug from him too and when she circled her fingers around it, he jerked his hand away so fast that the liquid spilled down, even a little touching her hand and temporarily burning it. She yelped from the heat on her skin. She looking up shocked to find Jeremy staring back at her with the same horror.

It took her a few moments to compose herself, before she smiled and pointed to the spill, “You better clean that up.”

Elena brought the mug closer to examine it, tracing her finger around its rim, even around the spilled area. The coffee didn’t burn this time.  

Jeremy and Elena liked their coffee black. For her, it started as a small “rebellion”, if you could call it that, demanding to be treated like an adult by her parents at the age of sixteen. Then her parents died, and left her alone with Jeremy to grow up faster than they were supposed to. She wondered why she ever wanted to be an adult so much. What she would do to take it all back and just have a glass of milk handed to her by her coddling mother every morning. But that day would never come. She grew up and she had her coffee to make her stay awake when all she wanted to do was fall asleep and never wake up again. Later she realized things were even worse, and coffee was the reality -- dark and bitter like the world -- and she needed it to get through everyday, sober.

Still looking down at the mug, she wondered if it would taste like the sandwich did. She’d seen Stefan and Damon drink bourbon almost everyday. Damon was practically drinking it like water. Maybe it didn’t affect drink the way it affected it like food. Maybe it burned down her throat like it burnt her hand slightly. She took a hesitant sip.

It didn’t burn but she grimaced in disgust. It still tasted like dirt, but different from the sandwich.

Jeremy, who seemed to have his eyes on her all this time, asked, “Anything wrong with it?” He then looked down at his mug, questioningly. Elena noticed his fingers were awkwardly circling around it.

She shook her head and put on her practiced smile, “No. It’s fine.”

Jeremy tensed for a moment. He probably did the math. He gave back a sad smile and this time when he tried to walk out, she didn’t stop him.

The coffee was fine. It was she who was not.

She thought back on her last meal as a human and realized she hadn’t had one. She’d only had Caroline’s vodka spiked tea (and Matt’s drug spiked tea). She’d taken such a simple thing for granted, and now she didn’t actually need it.

She looked Stefan’s way, “How does animal blood taste?”

“It tastes….satisfying,” Stefan replied.

“But something is missing,” she pressed for him to elaborate.

He nodded, “Yes, something is missing.” His gaze shifted from amiable to having a hint of regret in it, “But it’s a small price to avoid more guilt.”

Elena wondered if a vampire’s life was just that. A life of more compromises. Pleasure, guilt and penance. It sounded so Old Testament Biblical.

It sounded like her life after her parents died. Only worse.

She remembered Stefan wasn’t the ideal vampire nor was Damon. Caroline came the closest to it. So she pointed out, “Caroline drinks from blood bags and there’s no crippling guilt on her end.”

“Caroline also has an enormous amount of control, which I lack. Most people lack it and they’re not like me,” Stefan said, his tone heavy with regret.

Elena looked sympathetically towards Stefan and then at her hands and fiddled with her fingers. Before she knew it, tears were streaming down her face and she had to bite back sobs. Who was she kidding? She was no Caroline. Caroline made everything a project to overcome. It worked well for her. But that wasn’t Elena. Turning inward, she berated herself for the fact that she couldn’t control her tears.

“Hey,” Stefan’s voice broke her out of her thoughts.”Hey,” he cupped her face and his cool fingers soothed her skin from the burning tears. “You won’t be like this for long. I called Bonnie. She’ll be over here any time soon.”

She nodded and tried to wipe away her tears that wouldn’t stop. Stefan wrapped his arms around her and made her lean on him. She kept sobbing and she didn’t even clearly know why she was crying. Only that she felt like it and she clung onto Stefan’s shirt burying herself into his chest. Stefan smelled of pine-cones and cologne. She had forgotten this distinct fact about him until now. It felt familiar like it hadn’t in a long time, but this familiarity felt stranger at this point. She cried more at the thought of it, and held on tighter to him.  

Gradually, she stopped but she didn’t pull away immediately. It had been a while since Stefan had made her feel safe but since the 20s dance, Stefan had been a stable ground -- once again. She held onto his hand for more than a few moments, trying to measure how much of it all felt the same. It almost felt like before.

Almost.

She started to pull away, “Thank you.”

“No problem.” She stared at him for a beat before she decided the sink was a good diversion. As Stefan went on to explain to her how her emotions were intensified, she went over to the sink and splashed a handful of water on her face, and wiped it with a towel.  

Why was it hard? Maybe it was the fact that he was looking at her, trying to get the Elena he knew back and as easy as it would be to just tell him that she chose him, it wasn’t because what if she wasn’t that Elena anymore - even if she turned back human? He told her he’d take her back without any questions.  But she hadn’t just kissed Damon once as a mistake. She did it again and went further. Did she have an excuse? She brushed aside the thought. She wasn’t thinking straight, back then.

“I should have saved you on that bridge,” Stefan blurted out. Elena shifted to see him. He was glancing down, bearing a worry ridden face.

“No, no.  It’s not your fault!” Elena shook her head. Here, Stefan was beating himself up for doing something that he wasn’t to blame for when she was thinking about her own fateful decision and if she and his brother meant something. She didn’t deserve Stefan.  

"None of this would have happened if I had,” Stefan’s words came out clipped and hoarse.

“And then Matt would be dead,” Elena curtly said. Stefan tried to argue against her, but he couldn’t manage to and instead fell silent.

“You respected my choice, Stefan. You did nothing wrong. You saved my friend and I wouldn’t choose differently, even now.” Squeezing his arm, she added, “So don’t beat yourself up over it, okay?”

Of all the choices she was unsure of, that was not among them. She would choose to save Matt, no matter what. Somehow it felt wrong telling Stefan what else she’d chosen last night even though Stefan proved that she was right in the choice she had made. She had asked for a sign or something yesterday and now she had it. Damon would never do what Stefan had done. The last time Damon forced his blood on her because he couldn’t stand losing her, Elena had told Stefan that Damon didn’t know what love was and neither did she because even with having to grow up fast, she knew she didn’t know what it meant. But through the last six months she pondered upon that question more and more. Didn’t love just happen when you met someone at first and you just knew? It happened with her and Stefan, even when she didn’t know what love was. How else was someone supposed to know?

Love was not supposed to be so messy and complicated to the point where she had begun to question if she truly knew what kind of person she was. Everyone knew who she was. Then how come it all became so unclear around one person? And so, her choice was made.

All she had to to do was tell Stefan. 

The sunlight from the window was starting to strain her eyes. She squeezed them shut wincing in pain and raising her hand out to shield herself.

“It’s noon. You should go upstairs and stay away from the light,” Stefan suggested.

“Okay.” She started making her way to her bedroom. She thought one last time if she should tell him about her choice and turned back around and called out softly, “Stefan?”

Stefan looked at her in surprise, “Yeah?”

“Nothing,” she answered, covering up her worry with a smile yet again - too tired to even count how many times she had done that today - and turned around to walk towards her room as she had intended, sneaking a glance to see if she was now certain. Once she climbed halfway up the the stairs, she wondered what else was she waiting for. It was enough, wasn’t it?

She flopped down on her bed and let out a breath. The entire room was sheathed by her faded patterned scarlet curtains. This was starting to remind her a lot of the time when she was put under house arrest. Except this time she was afraid too. She looked up to see her empty ceiling. She manouvered to her side to check the bedside clock. She only had a couple of hours before she started to “fade” as Stefan called it. She shifted up the bed resting her back on the headboard and squeezed her eyes shut in exhaustion but the sound of the clock ticking on the opposite side of the wall wouldn’t leave her be. So she opened her eyes and stared straight ahead at it intently. In a few moments she could probably tell the count of time exactly without looking.

Eventually from observing all the the ticking - rhythmic that it was - she didn’t know how and when the darkness enveloped her, clouding her vision and making her tumble down into a lightless space that she did not know.

It was just a dream, she told herself. But when she tried to close her eyes and say those words so she could wake up, she didn’t. Then she tried to yell but her voice wouldn’t come out. She tried to run but she couldn’t move. She couldn’t even see her own body.

“Katherine?” Damon’s voice came out of nowhere. Suddenly the space around her bled into the color of night on a road and Damon stood in front of her, staring at her in awe.

“Umm...No, I’m Elena,” Elena thought out these words feeling betrayed and was surprised to find her own voice saying them. But she intended the words to come out a lot less calm than they came out here, even if confused.

“Oh, you just look...Sorry, you just really remind me of someone. I’m Damon.”

Confused, she questioned why Damon was acting like a stranger and why he thought she was Katherine. Words still didn't come out.

“Not to be rude, Damon. But it’s kind of creepy that you’re out here in the middle of nowhere,” her voice spoke but they weren't her words. This wasn't her.

She felt herself take a step back. Her other version was probably a bit afraid of him.

Why didn’t she recognize him? She couldn't gather why she didn't recognize him when _she_ could.

“You’re one to talk. You’re out here by yourself.”

She heard herself - not herself but this other version of herself - smile in reaction to that, “It’s Mystic Falls. Nothing bad happens here.”

Where _was_ she? Everything bad happened in Mystic Falls and she knew it. There was a time she didn’t though, but that felt long ago. Maybe she was asking the wrong questions. She knew it was Mystic Falls but when was this happening?

Damon didn’t make a joke or mock her comment. He still held that awe and surprise in his eyes. He wasn’t calling her Katherine or trying to convince her that she was her. She wondered if he believed her. Either way, he was trying to wrap his head around Katherine having a doppelganger. She wasn’t Elena to him here. She was just Katherine’s doppelganger.

Her other version got more serious and continued,“Got into a fight with my boyfriend.”

Boyfriend? So Stefan was a part of it too? But she didn’t know Damon and she was walking on the road after fighting with Stefan. Elena never went out on strolls after fighting with Stefan, which was rare. She’d drive home and stayed holed up there. She felt a bit suffocated being stuck in a strange dream where Damon and she were strangers and of not understanding why.

“About what? May I ask?” Holding up his hands, Damon seemed as if he was trying not to be rude.

“Life, future. He’s got it all mapped out”

A change marked the air and she felt it. Even though she and Damon didn’t know each other in this dream, they weren’t as uncomfortable anymore. The slight hesitance on her other version’s part was replaced by her being honest with him about her personal problems, and Damon looked genuinely interested in knowing her. He wasn’t looking at her with a different agenda trying to seduce her, like he did the actual first time they met. Is this what they would look like if Damon didn’t feel the need to rile up Stefan in the beginning of their relationship?

“And you don’t want it?”

It was a bold statement for someone who was merely a stranger to this version of her. But then again when wasn’t Damon a bit too bold. This version of herself hadn’t told Damon about the details of their fight even if she was telling him more than she should. She didn’t know how this world’s version of Stefan and Elena were, but in this moment she didn’t seem happy. She seemed almost tired of their relationship. Maybe Damon was right. But if he was, then why didn’t she?

“I don’t know what I want.”

The more this conversation carried on, it began feeling more and more familiar. Almost too familiar to her present situation. The words “I don’t know” had become her answer to everyone who asked her what she felt for Damon and what it meant about Stefan and her. She wondered if this was her subconscious trying to make her face the reality of the situation in present day - even after she made her decision. But she hadn’t become tired of Stefan and her relationship. Or had she? No, she hadn’t.

“That’s not true. You want what everybody wants.”

How could he tell? He didn’t know anything about this life of hers. She gave him generic issues and yet he was sure. He was throwing wild guesses. That’s it.

But what if he was right?

“What? Mysterious stranger who has all the answers?” Elena sensed a teasing, candid tone to the other Elena’s voice. It almost seemed like she was flirting. What if she was flirting? Did she do this often? Did she do this with Damon often? Suddenly, she felt more self-conscious.

Damon laughed, looking away. It wasn’t uncontrollable laughter but what took Elena by surprise was how he was smiling a toothy smile. Damon didn’t generally show his teeth and laugh or smile. When he did, mostly it was unconscious and he wasn’t trying to control it. It was as if he was almost blushing, but not quite.

“Lets just say I’ve been around a long time. I’ve learned a few things.” Damon generally had his charm on when talking to people but until now he wasn’t actively flirting with her. Now, he was and doing his “eye thing” that she hated.

She couldn’t help but smile inside. She was however startled when she heard her other version smile. People don’t realize how much the sound of their smiles give them away. Usually, they don’t think of smiling as being able to be heard. For them that’s laughter. But smiles can be heard just as much as seen and right now, it seemed like the other Elena was grinning ear to ear, forgetting about the initial awkwardness and being upset over her boyfriend a few seconds ago. Was it that simple when Damon was around her in reality too? To forget everyone else and run along the fringe until they stepped too far?

“So...Damon, tell me. What is it that I want?” The other Elena kept up the banter. This time her voice teased him more than before. There was no doubt that she was flirting with him. She was flirting with him. She couldn’t help but wonder how much of this reflected real life. How many times had she fallen into a lighter moment with him like this?

Elena watched Damon carefully, waiting for the answer he’d give. Maybe it wouldn’t be what she wanted at all. Maybe this could finally end it. Or maybe he’d tell her exactly what she wanted and couldn’t pin down. What would she do then?

Damon turned serious for a second and then walked closer keeping his eyes trained on hers, saying his words slowly, “You want a love that consumes you.”

Elena gaped at Damon upon those words.

No. No. No.

This was just her confusion playing out in a dream.

Taking a step even closer, he stopped and let the words as they came out hang in the air for a moment longer, “You want passion, adventure. And even a little bit of danger.”

Elena felt like she couldn't breathe. Why was he saying all these things? Why couldn't he just shut up?

Damon had invaded her personal space a lot more than he had right now, but for a stranger even so he was standing at a too familiar distance and the other Elena who had control over her body wasn’t moving back, no matter how much closer he moved. The other Elena didn’t move closer, but unlike before she didn’t step back for even a second. _She_ , however, needed to run out of this place. But she was at the mercy of her other version.  

She was calling her the Other Elena for a reason. They weren't the same person. It wasn't really happening. Any moment she'd wake up and it'd be over. She kept telling herself over and over.

"So...what do you want?" The other Elena wasn't moving close enough to jump and make a move. She was asking his side of the story. But it wasn’t just that. The undertones of this entire conversation were more forward.

Elena just wanted it to end. But it wouldn’t.

Damon, who had mustered up his charm in the middle of this odd exchange, had recovered from the shock of her being the mirror image of his ex and now, suddenly found himself looking at her baffled again. He opened his mouth to say something only to falter, seemingly at a loss. Elena felt like she was a voyeur infringing on a private moment between another version of herself and Damon. She tried to glance away but she couldn’t.

A honk snapped them all out of the moment. Her body turned so she was able to see her parents' car from afar.

She was just seeing things.

"That's my parents."

It didn't make sense. She attempted calming down by reminding herself that it was just a dream.

When she turned back around, Damon was right before her and she couldn't anticipate his next words.

He tenderly said,"I want you to get everything you're looking for." His eyes started dilating and every other sound started to fall into a haze, "But right now, I want you to forget that this happened.”

The thought that hadn’t occurred to Elena during this entire ordeal settled on her. It was so impossible that never once did she think of it.

“Can't have people knowing I'm in town." The haze of his pronounced voice ended when her eyes shut involuntarily, pushing her back into the darkness before she could ask what the hell Damon was saying. But she was more stunned and unable to process what had just happened. Before she knew it her eyes flew open to the sight of her bedroom and the loud ticking of the clock.

Elena wasn't so sure she knew what was real anymore.

***

Damon sat in his camaro at the side of the road and hit the steering wheel. He pushed back onto his seat, closing his eyes trying to contemplate what he was doing.

He was heading towards Rebekah, not really knowing what he was expecting. Blowing off steam the most through revenge, of course. But did he expect to make it out alive? Not really. But if Elena was so hell bent on risking her life and didn’t want to listen to him, he didn’t care if acting out or walking again into his own death picking a fight with someone else wasn't the way he should react. Maybe he had a death wish. But right now it didn't matter.

He wanted nothing more than to rush back to her house and drag her with him and keep her safe, tell her that reversing spells don’t exist and if they do he couldn’t risk losing her; tell her that it was hard but she’d get through it like everything else. He just needed her to live. He needed to go back. But she didn’t want him or need him.  

He opened his eyes, looking straight ahead. No matter what he chose to do, both sides had Elena written on them. He got out of the car and kicked it. When he accidentally stepped on a branch, he picked it up and hit a tree trunk with it. And again. It wasn’t enough. So he punched the bark over and over, faster each time as it cut through his skin, only to heal again even if covered slightly in congealed blood. He ignored the pain. Eventually he stopped, blowing out short breaths.

He hated her so much for the power she had over him. He pulled out his phone and typed out:

_If you kill her witchy..._

He backspaced his own words and retyped his message and hit the send button but kept staring down at his words.

_Don’t let her die_

__

***

Bonnie walked towards the Gilbert house with her grimoire, cellphone and bag in hand as loose papers kept slipping out of her hands and she tried to keep them from flying away. Her phone buzzed and she cursed under her breath. She knew it was Stefan. Last she checked there were 6 voicemails from him that she hadn’t heard because she’d listened to the 3 before that already. It’s not easy to come up with a vampire reversing spell in 2 hours and she couldn’t fully do that for Elena if Stefan kept sending voicemails every five minutes asking her if she was done. She had called Jeremy in the meanwhile and told him to inform Elena that she was on her way.

Landing on the porch, she went forward to press the bell. She had just made a deal with the devil by saving Klaus to save all her friends and now she had to make a plea to her own coven’s ghosts to help her reverse the vampirism of one of her friend’s after that. None of them knew yet about it, and she’d rather it stayed that way until the spell at least. Elena wouldn’t let her to go through with the spell if she knew she was going against the witches. But she had to. The witches hated vampires so they should be willing to help her. She hoped.

The door opened with Jeremy stood on the other side, springing her out of her inner thoughts. She and Jeremy hadn't discussed their situation since she took Jamie out to the dance. He didn't have a right to after what he'd done to her. She stared at him awkwardly not knowing what to say face to face when ironically Stefan came to her rescue rushing down the stairs.

“You’re here. Finally,” Stefan said.

“Where’s Elena?” she asked looking from Jeremy to Stefan.

“Upstairs in her room,” Stefan answered stretching out his arm guiding her.

Bonnie made her way upstairs while Stefan briefed her about what it was like in transition and how Elena was doing. She reached to open Elena’s door but had a momentary fear for what she’d see inside. She sucked in a breath and then turned the knob. Bonnie found Elena looking out the window, sitting on the window settee, with her arms folded holding what seemed like a book from afar. She took slow steps making her way inside.

Stefan called out to Elena, “Elena, Bonnie is here!”

Elena turned around gradually and smiled. She looked pale and exhausted. Bonnie wondered if that was just the vampirism transition effects or was it the whole emotional rollercoaster. She figured it could be both. She went on to sit on the edge of Elena’s bed.

“Hey.” Bonnie tried to smile

“Hey.” Elena returned back a weak smile. Looking at her, Bonnie had one of those telepathic moments where she knew Elena would rather do this alone without anyone else around her. Anyway, she felt it was better if only Elena and she were in the room so it helped her with control.

Bonnie started, “Stefan? Could you-”

“Yeah, sure.” He shifted to move out, gesturing Jeremy to follow. But he turned back again to look at Elena, seeming unsure.

Jeremy asked Bonnie, "You sure you gonna be okay? It's not-"

Bonnie nodded, "I'll be fine."

Jeremy and Stefan worried but they seemed to push it aside. Stefan said he’d wait outside. Jeremy glanced one last time at Elena, and, then, Bonnie before leaving the room with Stefan.

Once they were gone, Bonnie moved to sit on the settee beside Elena. Elena’s shoulders seemed to sink more when she clutched her hand. Bonnie wasn’t confident about the spell and Elena didn’t seem ready. She’d rather not end up killing her friend or send her to purgatory as much as she didn’t want her to be a vampire. There was still time.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked Elena.

“Not really,” Elena replied.

Bonnie stared at her for a moment not knowing what to do. Then she picked up her phone trying to break the ice, “Stefan really has an obsession with voicemails. We talked about the spell and he sent me ten later.” Elena returned a small smile.

“Look," Bonnie outstretched her arm to show her phone. “I was on your doorstep and I got one from him”. Elena reached for it but her smile fell when she saw it.

“What’s wrong?” Bonnie worriedly asked.

Elena said, “It’s not from Stefan.” Bonnie took the phone back. Elena continued, “Damon.”

Bonnie glimpsed up to find Elena looking more distant and disturbed than before. “Speaking of the devil, where is he?”

“He…left,” Elena replied, not even looking at her.

“Left as in…?” Bonnie asked. She had no interest in whether Damon stayed or left. But she knew Elena cared and right now she just wanted to make her feel better.

“I don’t know!” Elena snapped at her. Then peered down at her bent knees, trying to calm herself.  

“Do you want to talk about that?” Bonnie asked.

“No, I  don’t, Bonnie!” Elena snapped again. Realizing her behavior she composed herself immediately, “Sorry it’s this whole-”.

“It’s okay.”

Elena stayed silent and her silence made Bonnie feel awkward talking about this. Bonnie had only brought up the voicemails to cheer her up. She was about to say something when Elena spoke, “Can I see the message?”

“Sure.” Bonnie held it out for her again.

Elena held onto the phone for about two minutes, glassy eyed and her brows more furrowed up than before. Bonnie expected a break down but it never came. Instead, Elena handed the phone back saying, “I’m ready for the spell.”

Bonnie checked her screen for the message she hadn’t seen it until now. She never quite understood Damon and Elena. One day they were fighting and avoiding each other. The next day they were another thing completely. But it seemed that something huge had happened. She checked the text.

_Don’t let her die_

That sounded like everyday Damon talk. Like a warning order. But it pushed Elena enough to want to go through with it, when it should have probably had the opposite effect. Bonnie doubted Damon was in on the plan or he would have stayed and passed douche-y holier than thou comments.

“Are you sure?” Bonnie asked once again.

“As long as it doesn’t threaten you,” Elena said. “Plus the witches hate vampires so much, they should be on our side, right?”

Bonnie forced a smile. She got up and started to shift her bedside table.

“What are you doing?” Elena asked from behind.

“This spell requires a lot of energy and needs to connect you back to the forces of nature completely.” Bonnie went on to push the bed over, when Elena came onto her side to help her. She seemed to do it with more ease than she should have that she didn’t even need Bonnie’s help. Transition meant the features of a vampire did show up. Elena stared  confusedly back at her. Bonnie shook her head.

She pulled out two bowls, eight candles, and a can of salt from her bag. She had to invent this spell. Magic didn’t always come planned in books. Sometimes one had to use their imagination. She started by sprinkling salt and drawing a circle on one end and a pentagram inside it.

Right beside it, she drew another circle when Elena asked, “Another one?”

“One for life and one for the undead,” Bonnie answered, drawing an upside down pentagon inside it. It took up almost the entire room. Then Bonnie drew lines connecting the first two horizontal ends of the pentagram with the second two horizontal ends making larger triangles converging. Drawing a midpoint to both pentagrams, she drew another line connecting them both and drew a circle using those two points as its perimeter, conjoining the two other circles like a venn diagram.

“And the third is for the limbo?” Elena asked.

“Yeah, the other side. You’re part of the living, the undead and the invisible other side –the place in between right now” Bonnie said reaching for the bowls and candles. “You’re in the center of it all.” She said, placing bowl on two pointy ends of the pentagrams and asked Elena to pass her the stands and the rest of her bag. Bonnie fixed the candles on the ground and the stands, while Elena took out the remaining stuff from Bonnie’s bag – a bottle of water and a jar of mud.

“So am I none of them or all of them?”

“Both,” Bonnie said, stopping in her activity for minute holding Elena’s gaze. Elena looked back scared in that moment. She took the items from Elena’s outstretched hands and sprinkled a little mud on two opposite points, then water on two opposite points. Next, she  went to open the window and pushed the curtains aside to allow air to come in directly. Elena followed the same for the other curtain.

“Now what? The candles?”

“No, first I need you to sit in in the middle of the circles joining.”

With an unreadable expression, Elena inspected the ritual site for a moment before she went to sit in between it. Bonnie placed a candle at each point and closed her eyes, thinking Incendia and opened it to find all the candles lit. Elena was frozen with fear for a moment.

“Now comes the tricky part,” Bonnie said while taking out a knife.

Elena screamed, “No!”

“The fire will keep you from losing it. Don’t worry,” Bonnie reassured and the intensity of the flames increased. Elena flinched back, a bit scared. “A spell like this needs a sacrifice.”Bonnie explained while cutting her palm and letting her blood fall onto the top point of the first pentagram. Elena’s eyes widened on that mention. Bonnie tried to calm her down, “Nothing will happen to me. It’s just to increase the force of magic.”

Elena shook her head, “No, Bonnie this a bad idea. I don’t want it!”

“Nothing will happen.”

“No! No!”

Bonnie closed her eyes and invoked a space blocking spell so Elena couldn’t speed out of the ritual frame inside the bedroom.

Grabbing Elena’s hands, she shelved the pain from the cut aside and she closed her eyes. “Phasmatos Tribum Nas Ex Veras,” she started. “Es Tas Sue Sasta Nanse, Transum Viso. Mas Tenas Quisa, Nas Metam” Magic built inside her as she spoke her incantations. Elena kept screaming for Bonnie to stop and trying to rid her hands off her. But she didn’t listen. She went on, and added the second part of the spell invoking the other side. She heard the wind rushing through the windows, with the leaves touching her skin but the sound seemed dulled, and speed slowed down. It seemed to be working but the world suddenly made her feel weaker and the witches’ ghosts hissed at her, sapping away her energy little by little. A voice so familiar broke her out of the moment, “Bonnie you have to stop!”

She opened her eyes to leaves rustling past her, a wide-eyed Elena and Grams.

“Grams?” The spell had worked and she was on the other side.

“Listen to me. You have to stop,” Grams repeated.

“What - No! I can’t,” she yelled back.

“They’ll take away your power!” Grams shouted angrily.

Elena intervened, “Bonnie, stop it! I don’t need this!”

Ignoring Elena, Bonnie told Grams, “They hate vampires. I’m doing them a favor.”

“It’s not balancing nature! Elena’s life was taken and there’s no way to return it,” Grams said.

“Then let them take me in return.”

“Bonnie!” Elena looked back at her horrified. She shouted back, “I won’t allow it. You don’t get to die for me!”

“You’d do the same,” Bonnie said once and continued chanting again.

Elena kept screaming and begging her to stop but Bonnie didn’t listen.

She heard Grams voice pleading too, “The witches need them. They’ll do everything to stop you.” She didn’t listen to any of them and kept chanting.

Grams started screeching in pain and Elena was shouting at Bonnie to stop when Bonnie opened her eyes to see red veins popping out of Grams’ body and her skin shrivelling.

“No!” Bonnie screamed in panic. Bonnie stopped chanting the spell in her mind or verbally but the leaves were still rustling around, the fire still ablaze and Grams’ body was still shrivelling.

“I take it back! I take it back!” Bonnie shouted to the spirits. But Grams started to get weaker and fall down.

“No!” She yelled, running towards Grams. But before she could get to her Grams disappeared. The wind had stopped rushing through the room and the candles were out. Time was no more slowed down but it still felt still.

Her knees buckled and she fell down on the place where Grams was supposed to be right now if the veil were down and brushed her hand on the floor. She heard a creak in the floorboard behind her.

“Bonnie?”

She stayed there bent as she was, when tears came streaming down her cheeks and she started to shake, and she felt two arms wrap around her and hold her close. She held onto Elena as she burst out wailing.

 

***

 

Elena sat in her room cleaning up the mess from the ritual. Stefan and Jeremy tried to help her but she drove them out telling them she needed to be on her own. Jeremy helping her was out of the question, anyway – the bloodlust but even more there was the disappointment and fear that would never leave Jeremy now. Would Jeremy prefer her dead, she wondered as she swept up the mud off the ground.

She couldn’t face the disappointment and guilt in Stefan’s eyes knowing the spell hadn’t worked so she either had to turn or die, Bonnie had to lose her Grams the second time and the situation was irreversible.  It reminded her of her own.

The way Bonnie had left her house shaken up and hollow had scared her. She wanted to run after her but she was still in transition and what she could do outside her house made her afraid. Elena also knew going after her now wasn’t a good idea remembering the time when Damon turned Abby to save her. Bonnie didn’t want to see her for a while after that. Sending Jeremy after Bonnie was a bad idea too. Caroline had her own grieving to do and Matt was there for her. So she settled on calling Jamie to check on Bonnie.

She was sweeping away the strewn salt along with the broken candles and bowl pieces, when she hit the area where the ritual symbol was drawn with salt. A part of the symbol had been erased, leaving only the upside down pentagon with a circle behind it around etched into the wooden floorboards. She knelt down and ran her fingers on a portion of it. She didn’t need to look at Jeremy or Stefan to remind her of her own guilt. She had it staring right back at her in that very room.

She felt so dumb for thinking there was a chance to reverse this. There was a price for cheating death. She knew that well enough.

She should have been more careful and asked Bonnie what she was going to do, what it involved and grilled her until she told her the complete truth. She should have had Bonnie’s life on her mind when she came to her, not some guy who she couldn’t decide who the hell he was and shouldn’t be thinking about in the first place and conjuring up figments about because of it.

No one needed her here. Not now.

She was taking the scattered ceramic bowls’ pieces to the bathroom bin when everything turned black. The last thing she heard before darkness completely enveloped her again was the sound of something crashing onto the floor.

   ***

 

In Klaus’ room, Rebekah held her brother’s painting in her hands, running her fingers across the sketched lines, imagining him drawing the horse in it. Her brother was many things on top of being not a good person and he never even loved her enough but she did love him. It was always Nik and Rebekah amongst the siblings. A thousand years, more or less, was a lot of time together and now she had to start contemplating a life without someone who defined it so much by the good and bad.

She heard footsteps sneaking up to her and a shortness of breaths, and dimmed heartbeats. She figured it was Damon, coming to avenge Elena. They were both so pathetic.

Elena was a whiny little girl-next-door who would stab you in the back when it suited her. But she’d make sure to give you a lecture if you happened to do the same. Damon just used every woman that walked the earth except Elena, who would never return his feelings the way he wanted but he pined for her anyway. They were such self-righteous hypocrites. They almost deserved each other.

In a flash, Rebekah sped past Damon and before he could register her presence shoved him onto the ground. The white oak stake fell from his hand and bounced away from him.

“You’re so predictable,” Rebekah said, rolling her eyes.

Damon said, "I could say likewise"

He looked towards the stake indicating he was about to speed there when she smacked him across his chest and he fell backward with a loud thump. He moaned from the other side, muttering a curse. He looked up, narrowed and veined out eyes bearing as much loathing as the blood showing behind them. If he was angry, hell so was she.  

Damon tried to manoeuvre himself to the stake when she tried a diversion.

“I kill your annoying little Elena and now you’re in all obviousness here for revenge against me. How pathetic”  she said, outrage pouring out of voice.

Damon’s fangs tore through his gums. He bared his gnarly vampire face, getting up from the ground again and started charging at her, even without the stake. He grabbed a few pencils off Klaus’ table and threw them her way. She couldn’t fend all of them off in time and as they pierced through her skin with a burning sting, she yelped in pain.

“Isn’t that what you did to Elena?” Damon grunted.

What did he understand about loss? Was he really comparing a millennia to a few years with Elena?

Ignoring the sting, she yanked a few out and threw them back towards him but he ducked away right in time, disappearing from sight. Rebekah looked around the room. She knew he was still there. The swish of wind from the side confirmed his presence. She was a thousand years old and she could tell his movements from the slightest evidence. The air split as he threw a painting knife at her which grazed past her cheek. He was determined. So was she, and cutting off his next attempt, she turned around and tossed a table at him, making him fall down.

“I bet Stefan’s sitting by her body, holding her and mourning her while you’re out here busy picking a fight with me, not even honoring her,” she taunted slowly making her way towards him.

Damon jumped back to his feet and and broke a leg of the table. He was filled with rage, Rebekah noted. Well, so was she.

She tackled him and punched his face, and then his stomach, ripping through his insides for a moment. She gritted her teeth as the warm wet innards wrapped around her fingers. She found his heart and squeezed it, satisfied momentarily when he gasped in pain.  

Though it wasn’t enough. She thought of taking it up a notch, “Then again, maybe you know she wouldn’t want you by her side” He seemed to forget the physical pain she was imposing on him compared to how much more overwhelmed he was by her words.

He was like an open book when it came to Elena. All his cool and uncaring attitude got butchered away on the simple mention of something bad related to her. So weak and vulnerable and no comebacks up his sleeve. She laughed at how easy it was to push his buttons but was cut short when she noticed he had caught hold of the white oak stake again and he was close enough to stake her. She should have run away in that moment or just killed him. But somehow, she froze.

Maybe it was the shock of coming close to it last night. Maybe it was the reminder that Nik died from it and it was so close to her. She stared at the weapon with which her mother wanted them all killed with, and had succeeded with the most invincible of them all.

Damon was about to attack her when his phone rang from beside him where it had fallen out, and it snapped her out of her thoughts. Gathering herself, she planted a smile and taunted him again, “Bet that’s Stefan telling you he’s planned her funeral and you just have to show up."

Damon’s eyes bore only hate for her in this moment when they started to vein out. But fast enough they disappeared when he looked back at the phone. This time he was the one who froze. She took advantage of his present state and picked up his phone, pressed “answer" and turned on loudspeaker.

Stefan’s voice chimed out of the phone, “Damon, I know you’re mad at me and you don’t want to listen to me. But you need to."

Stefan was so pathetic compared to who he was in the 20s. She cringed inwardly at his begging.

"The spell failed. She’s still in transition.” Rebekah looked Damon’s way, confused. Elena was alive? He seemed to share her confusion, even though she was pretty sure he knew Elena was still alive but in transition. What spell was Stefan talking about?

“Damon? Are you there?” Stefan's voice full of emotion echoed from the phone. But Damon didn’t say a word. He lifted himself slowly off the ground, looking at nothing in particular, a defeated expression on his face. He stared at the white oak stake in his hand like it was the only weapon he had in the world against everything. When his gaze lifted to face her, his expression changed to one of absolute loathing. She didn’t understand why. Sure, she had killed Elena but if she was still alive and if she turned into a vampire it would be his dream come true.  

He was about to speed towards her and attack her, when Stefan said the words that made him halt, “Listen to me! She’s gone. I looked around the house. I called Bonnie, Caroline and Matt and she’s... She’s not there. Please...”

Rebekah couldn't fathom how Elena was still alive while she had lost her companion of a thousand years. How did Elena do it? She just never died. It seemed like somehow she was more immortal than all of them.  

But not this time.

“So what’s it gonna be, Damon? Go find Elena or waste your time pointlessly trying to kill me because you know she doesn’t want you?”  Rebekah said loud enough to interrupt Stefan’s call, with a smirk on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback would be great :)

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback would be great :)


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